Rash Cream
by InNeedOfSaving
Summary: Oneshot. The title about says it all. Jimmy has a rash, and he's really excited about his rash cream. R&R.


**AN: This was a collaborative effort with my friend Becca and I, inspired by her actual rash. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the rash cream industry.**

So, I woke up Tuesday morning, and my left arm was streaked with tiny, red whelps. And it itched. My arm burned, and nothing seemed to quench the flame. Damn it! I would get a mysterious rash up and down my dominant arm! I tried to think of what might have caused it.

_Poison ivy?_

_No, I haven't been around many plants. I live in the city._

_Poison oak?_

_Same answer._

_Allergies?_

Damn Clark Kent! He had thrown his peanuts at me at dinner the night before. Lois should have gotten on to him earlier. I mean, why on earth does Superman play with his food? Aliens have no table manners!

Well, this was a grand turn of events. I rushed around, skipping my shower so I could run by the pharmacy before work. Of course, even skipping my shower, I missed the bus. I could tell this was not going to be my day. I was sure of it when the next car that passed splashed me with dirty, city rainwater from the night before.

I finally made it to work. Late. Mr. White yelled; it was rather unpleasant. But I'm used to it by now. I always yells at the last person to come into work, even if they're five minutes early.

"Where have you been, Jimmy?" Lois asked as I made my way past her.

I stopped and looked down at my sleeved arm, unwilling to admit I had a rash. Then, I smoothed my greasy, red hair.

"I overslept."

Lois just smiled and shook her beautiful head. Typical Jimmy, right?

"Hey, buddy, how's it going?" Clark said. He was not going to get off easy for the peanut stunt. I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of Lois's range of hearing.

"I've been getting rash cream," I hissed. " Thanks a lot for throwing the peanuts at me!"

"Are you allergic to peanuts?" he asked.

"Duh! I'm Jimmy Olsen; I'm allergic to everything!" Not really, and I knew that Clark would take it as an expression of my frustration.

"Bad day, eh?" he asked with a sympathetic smile.

"Shut up," I said.

I didn't want to talk to a guy impervious to bullets when I wasn't even impervious to peanuts. I walked away from him with a huff. He laughed a little and tried to apologize, but I didn't want to hear it. All I wanted was to put on my rash cream and feel the cool and soothing goop on the burning bumps.

I made my way to my desk and sat down. Popping up again, I made sure no one was looking. Then, I rolled up my sleeve, pulling out the shiny, metallic, white tube. Yes! Pivoting my head on my neck like a floor-fan, I slathered the white, semi-liquid on the red, raised skin.

"Jimmy, come on. I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Damn it! Clark again!

"It's fine, okay. I've got rash cream, and I'm very excited about it. So, if you could just leave me alone," I grunted, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh, come on, Jimmy. Don't be so sore! I didn't know you were allergic. You never said anything," Clark said. He leaned forward a little as if one of his powers could make me forgive him if he could just get closer and into my line of sight.

"Oh, sure," I said, turning around to face him, "and admit another flaw in my composition. As if I don't look bad enough next to you already. Seriously, it's like the big kid on the playground picking on the underdeveloped kid in glasses when you're throwing peanuts at me." Sure, I snapped, but after a day like mine, Clark might have, too.

"I was just having a little fun. You make it sound like an everyday occurrence, but it was just once. I won't do it again. Anyway, it's not fair to compare yourself to me. I'm not even from your planet. I'm just a big, dumb alien. Come on, Jimmy. We're friends. You're one of the very few who knows my secret, and the only friend I have in the city that knows. Please don't make me feel bad for being myself."

I suppose he couldn't help it, and if he could help it, he probably would. Even superheroes get tired of their lives, maybe. I bet he envied, just a little, that I could, in theory, have sex with human girls. After all, how many Kryptonian girls did he know?

"I'm sorry, Clark. It's just been a bad morning, you know. I didn't mean it. But seriously, no more throwing stuff at me, huh?"

"I won't, and I'm sorry about your rash. I could freeze it for you," Clark said.

"NO," I exclaimed a little too loudly. " No thanks, Clark. Like I said, I'm really excited about this rash cream."

"Excited?" he asked.

"Yeah, it feels so good." I continued rubbing the cream into my inflamed arm.

"Okay, Jimmy. Calm down. I better get back to work. I don't think I want to see just how excited you get over your rash cream," Clark laughed.

I laughed in spite of myself. I supposed I couldn't be friends with Superman without the occasional plummet of my self-esteem, but it was little to ask for considering how many times he saved my life. Like that one time when I was possessed by dead vikings or the time I switched brains with a gorilla.

Man, I get into some weird shit.


End file.
